Chapter 25 The Cat Meets The Man In The Mirror
The Cat Meets The Man In The Mirror
DELILAH
Ifeel the power surge in the room as we tumble through the door.
It swings shut—a fact which should have tipped me off that we’ve made a wrong turn.
None of the proper rooms in my house have self-closing doors, only the ones I enchanted for the party.
I should have realized that right away, but all I can focus on now is kissing him, my hands roaming over his curves and soft plains until they settle on his hips to—wait a minute.
Did I say curves and soft plains? Taurus does not have curves and anything soft. He’s tight and muscled, all lines and angles, and—my brows furrow as I look down to figure out what’s going on.
I’m looking at my own bloody face—holy buggering fuck.
My hand comes up to trace fingertips over cheekbones, and I notice they are long, thin fingers on strong-looking hands.
This is so fucking weird. Blinking, I search around inside me, feeling his demon, how his body moves, and the interesting sensation of the painted-on pants over my—okay. I am weirded out.
I roll off him, me, her... Shit, this is confusing. It’s messing with my head. Looking over at my mate in my body, I feel a very odd sensation. A growl rumbles out of my chest, and my eyes pop open.
For the first time since we entered, he seems to have come to his senses. He smirks, sniffing the air. The deep burgundy-rouged lips curve in an expression that I didn’t know my face could make as he says, “I knew I was a bloody hot-looking bloke, but this is fucking surreal, puss.”
The words are unmistakably his, but the voice that comes out is mine, and it’s strange to hear.
For a moment, I stare while my brain tries to figure out how to process what I’m seeing.
I give him an exasperated look. “We switch bodies in a magick room and all you have to say is ‘wow, your own body is hot’?” I snort and roll to my feet, feeling the way his muscles move and tighten with interest.
Maybe I’m bent like a question mark, but this is neat.
I feel the heat of his gaze on me, and I hope he’s enjoying the not-so-subtle reactions my body will have as he watches me stalk around.
In fact, one thing should be fun. I smirk and turn, licking my lips.
My hand scratches over his rock-hard abs, stroking the feathery bird there.
Idgit doesn’t even try for my fingers, which means the magick tattoo has a better sense of the 411 than we do.
Bloody smart ink, he is.
A scent tickles my nose, and I move closer, slinking towards the bed like liquid mercury as I move his body in a way that I doubt he’s ever moved it before.
He’s not the least bit feminine and I’m not butch, but here we are.
A yowl echoes out of his throat, and his features flicker.
I cock my hip out, sensing the struggle and reveling in the irony.
My amusement at his experience with an inner monster that includes a mind of her own has me holding in a snort of laughter. Oh yeah, she’s teaching him a little something about that control he harped on me about.
“It’s not so bloody easy when the feral half becomes a mind of her own, now is it?” I ask, my voice low and gravelly. Again, I’d like to mention how weird it is to hear my voice come out two octaves lower than normal and in an accent. I mean, for some people, this would be therapy-worthy.
Good thing I’m made of sterner stuff, right?
I poke into his mind, muffling another laugh when I hear him arguing with her—as if that will work—as he tries to placate the rip, tear, and mount urge to a manageable level.
Why he’s doing that, I don’t have a clue, except he’s not sure how everything works and is afraid he’ll damage his tight little ass.
“She’s bloody talking to me! I didn’t know she sodding...” he trails off, listening again, as his fangs drop.
I can’t help it; I chuckle and then stalk closer to watch him struggle. He leaps to his feet and paces around, stopping for a moment to ogle the body he’s in as he damn near stomps in frustration. I burst out laughing at this time; he’s checking himself out!
Fuck, this is priceless.
My eyes flash, and I feel the shift as his demon pushes, scenting its mate and her arousal.
The brain-melting sensation starts again, and I’ll be damned if I don’t get why guys are so idiotic when they’re turned on now.
I couldn’t form a coherent sentence if I tried.
The harder it gets, the less I can focus on anything but moving closer to the tasty-smelling flesh jiggling past me, muttering.
Before I even realize I’m doing it, I step in front of her, and my hand shoots out to grip her hips and yank her to me.
It’s like someone rang the feed bell, and I’m toddling along like an obedient puppy.
At that moment, I am so glad I wasn’t born a male.
Despite the lingering weirdness in my head about feeling up my body, I dive in and she responds without batting an eyelash, kissing me like we’re going to die. The smell of her arousal is making me crazy, fangs scraping and hips grinding. I look around the room with demon eyes for a moment.
This is neat.
Things look different—sharper, maybe. Her soft growl brings my attention back to the flushed skin writhing against mine, and I slide my hand down to her hips, lifting her to wrap her legs around my waist. Backing her against the wall, I feel the heat emanating from her and know how little clothing she’s wearing.
A rumbling growl escapes my chest, and I’m surprised how different this feels in this body versus my own.
When she wriggles against me, I reach down to slide my hands over her.
She grins in satisfaction and growls, “Weird and unusual, but still fucking hot, minx. I can’t say I envy the furry you flapping her jaws in my head, though.”
I chuckle. “I love to say I told you so, and you know it.”
Her hips buck, and it draws my attention back to our bodies and the demands they’re making on us. Reaching down, I move to undo the pants when I realize that the damned things have no visible means of removal.
Damn, Damien’s magick; I’d forgotten.
There’s some embarrassing phrase that gets them off and on, and it better not be what I think it is or I’m leaving a five-fingered reproach on his furry ass.
That or Taurus will, since I’m not in possession of my favorite weapons now.
I suppose I could test drive the strength in this body if I get pissed enough.
Goddess knows Damien’s sense of humor runs to the twisted and annoying. I mean, Taurus’ tattoo bites him.
Growling in frustration, I roar up at the plaster.
“Damien!” Taurus looks at me in surprise, her eyes rising from the collarbone she’d been gnawing until comprehension dawns on her face.
Her head thumps against my chest. “I don’t know how I know this, but I know you hear me!
Get your festive ass down here and help me! ”
“When did you look at that prat’s...”
“Not what I meant,” I grind out. “He’d better fucking show before I rip something open and drag him out.”
“How are you planning on doing that when I have the body with that ability?”
“I led you through a healing, didn’t I? I could lead you through this. Though it might cause a few atmospheric disturbances since you’re new at it.” I stomp a booted foot and then kick the wall in frustration. Hearing the crash, I look down and note the hole in the baseboard. “Oops.”
“What was that about controlling your power, baby?”
“Oh, shut up. When you stir up a hurricane or rip open a portal, come talk to me. Hex can fix a baseboard. I don’t know anyone who can fix the space-time continuum.” I grumble again and look up at the top. “Damien! Where are you, you walking mood ring?”
“Mood ring,” she muses. “I like that one, love. Though I must admit, you don’t jiggle as nicely when you stomp wearing my skin.”
I give her a peeved look and then let her drop to the floor in an ungainly heap on her ass. Smirking, I put a hand on my hip and tap my foot. “What, no smart remarks?”
“I’m not the one who’s going to have a bruised ass in the morning. Knowing that fact takes the sting out of your little stunt,” she grins. Rolling to her feet, she props against the wall, arms crossed over her chest.
Arching my brow, I snort. “You’re not, eh? I suppose we’ll have to wait and see about that. I have a feeling that at some point, you’ll regret being so damned sure of that point. At least, depending on who gets their hands on you by the end of the night.”
Her eyes gleam, and I can tell by her expression she’s off in la-la land for a few. I stalk over to the bed to drop onto it, propping up my elbows. Looking down at an exasperated Idgit, I chuckle, scratching his plumed head. I remember that’s a double-edged sword for this body when I groan.
Where in the hell is that muse? It’s not as if he has something better to do.
She must be out of her daydream because a giggle erupts on the other side of the room, followed by, “Bloody fucking hell, I giggled.”
I snort and look over at her. “You did, baby. Big, bad Taurus giggled. Mark the record books.”
A voice from behind me cuts in before I continue, and the spiky-haired, multi-colored man himself appears out of thin air. “Shit, man, take a pill.”